Georgia woman, 37, on page #3 was nabbed on a masturbation for hire charge. Which likely explains the bathrobe ...

See, I don't get this. I was talking to a co-worker one night about the pure, simple pleasure that a good jerk-off brings. Thousands of care-free knuckle orphans cast off into the world like a wet poodle shaking moisture along the length of its back to the tip of its poofy tail . Now I'm not talking about a rubbing out a quick one while looking at lesbian tickle porn, I'm talking about a good chicken chokin'... like when your wife is visiting her sister and and you can get out that high-dollar greasy nut butter lube that smells like an Asian school girls puckerhole and stings the skin like that first and only time when you thought it might be a good idea to splash a few drops of the old man's Old Spice aftershave on your pecker before you took Betty Lou to the school dance.

Do you know what I am saying? I'm talking about pulling your pud with the gusto of a young boy whose mother has just left the house to go shopping and will be gone for hours. One of those pole polishings where you strip completely buck-ass naked, get the Penthouse magazines out of the closet and slowly hone the bone till you come to that crumpled up sticky page with the blue-eyed redhead (you know, the soft-focused one with the pouty lips and the giant tits who is sucking on the finger of her left hand as she slides two glistening fingers of her right hand between her perfectly shaven honeypot). You're thinking about her cooing to you as you hold your sausage hostage as you attempt to avoid climaxing too soon. Your breathing REALLY hard and you're thinking to yourself, "Damn, this one is gonna rub off some skin and will sting like a motherfarker over the next couple of days of gherkin jerkin."

Oh sure, none of you never buttered corn with a fuzzy sock or flogged the bishop with a powder puff you kept hidden under the bed or in the back of your underwear drawer. These are all universal memories to every crank yanker that has ever experienced the unbridled joy of a white-water wristing adventure.I ask you in all seriuosness, who in their right frame of mind would jail Miss Me-Love-You-Long-Time for the the "crime" of pleasuring your penis with her smooth, slim and experienced delicate Asian fingers while granting you the "Happy Ending" you paid for in the first place for chrissakes !!!???!!!

Now I know what some of you smarmy assholes and religious douche-bags are thinking.... "Dahkster, you sick, degenerate puppy. I don't HAVE TO masturbate!"

Well, you know what? NEITHER DO I. It's not like somebody holds a gun to my head and MAKES me do it. I do it, because I LIKE IT !And my spilled seed join in an unending chorus singing my praises as they fly gleefully into the night like so many fallen stars...singing that old negroe spiritual, "Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last."

Dahnkster:Georgia woman, 37, on page #3 was nabbed on a masturbation for hire charge. Which likely explains the bathrobe ...

See, I don't get this. I was talking to a co-worker one night about the pure, simple pleasure that a good jerk-off brings. Thousands of care-free knuckle orphans cast off into the world like a wet poodle shaking moisture along the length of its back to the tip of its poofy tail . Now I'm not talking about a rubbing out a quick one while looking at lesbian tickle porn, I'm talking about a good chicken chokin'... like when your wife is visiting her sister and and you can get out that high-dollar greasy nut butter lube that smells like an Asian school girls puckerhole and stings the skin like that first and only time when you thought it might be a good idea to splash a few drops of the old man's Old Spice aftershave on your pecker before you took Betty Lou to the school dance.

Do you know what I am saying? I'm talking about pulling your pud with the gusto of a young boy whose mother has just left the house to go shopping and will be gone for hours. One of those pole polishings where you strip completely buck-ass naked, get the Penthouse magazines out of the closet and slowly hone the bone till you come to that crumpled up sticky page with the blue-eyed redhead (you know, the soft-focused one with the pouty lips and the giant tits who is sucking on the finger of her left hand as she slides two glistening fingers of her right hand between her perfectly shaven honeypot). You're thinking about her cooing to you as you hold your sausage hostage as you attempt to avoid climaxing too soon. Your breathing REALLY hard and you're thinking to yourself, "Damn, this one is gonna rub off some skin and will sting like a motherfarker over the next couple of days of gherkin jerkin."

Oh sure, none of you never buttered corn with a fuzzy sock or flogged the bishop with a powder puff you kept hidden under the bed or in the back of your un ...

Marcintosh:Dahnkster: Georgia woman, 37, on page #3 was nabbed on a masturbation for hire charge. Which likely explains the bathrobe ...

See, I don't get this. I was talking to a co-worker one night about the pure, simple pleasure that a good jerk-off brings. Thousands of care-free knuckle orphans cast off into the world like a wet poodle shaking moisture along the length of its back to the tip of its poofy tail . Now I'm not talking about a rubbing out a quick one while looking at lesbian tickle porn, I'm talking about a good chicken chokin'... like when your wife is visiting her sister and and you can get out that high-dollar greasy nut butter lube that smells like an Asian school girls puckerhole and stings the skin like that first and only time when you thought it might be a good idea to splash a few drops of the old man's Old Spice aftershave on your pecker before you took Betty Lou to the school dance.

Do you know what I am saying? I'm talking about pulling your pud with the gusto of a young boy whose mother has just left the house to go shopping and will be gone for hours. One of those pole polishings where you strip completely buck-ass naked, get the Penthouse magazines out of the closet and slowly hone the bone till you come to that crumpled up sticky page with the blue-eyed redhead (you know, the soft-focused one with the pouty lips and the giant tits who is sucking on the finger of her left hand as she slides two glistening fingers of her right hand between her perfectly shaven honeypot). You're thinking about her cooing to you as you hold your sausage hostage as you attempt to avoid climaxing too soon. Your breathing REALLY hard and you're thinking to yourself, "Damn, this one is gonna rub off some skin and will sting like a motherfarker over the next couple of days of gherkin jerkin."

Oh sure, none of you never buttered corn with a fuzzy sock or flogged the bishop with a powder puff you kept hidden under the bed or in the back of your un ...